when chest pains start to bite again
the cigarettes taste better
when death as dry as dust is close
the dreams of life get wetter
and i will write it down for you
in this - your unread letter
these summer nights hang heavy
on my wasted thoughts of passion
my weaknesses empower me
in some misguided fashion
as in my eyes my filthy lies
dole out their puppy ration
i'd laugh but i no longer win these battles with my pride
i'd cry but i no longer count my tears on my side
too many lovers i betrayed too many lies i lied.
and all that i have left is written in between these lines
and all that i can do is wait and pay my karmic fines
and hope that i am wrong again and drain these bitter wines.
Little Black Book by Wayne Myers